For you can have your way. I that was man, With a man’s heart, am now all king again, Remembering that the seed I come of, though A hundred kings have sown it and resown it, Has neither trembled nor shrunk backward yet Because of the hard business of a king. Speak to your master; beg your life of him; Show him the halter that is round your necks. If his heart’s set upon it, he may die; But you shall all die with him. [_Goes up steps._ Beg your lives! Begin, for you have little time to lose. Begin it, you that are the oldest pupil. OLDEST PUPIL. Die, Seanchan, and proclaim the right of the poets. KING. Silence! you are as crazy as your master. But that young boy, that seems the youngest of you, I’d have him speak. Kneel down before him, boy; Hold up your hands to him, that you may pluck That milky-coloured neck out of the noose. YOUNGEST PUPIL. Die, Seanchan, and proclaim the right of the poets. OLDEST PUPIL. Gather the halters up into your hands And drive us where you will, for in all things, But in our Art, we are obedient. [_They hold the ends of the halter towards the KING. The KING comes slowly down steps._ KING. Kneel down, kneel down; he has the greater power. There is no power but has its root in his— I understand it now. There is no power But his that can withhold the crown or give it, Or make it reverend in the eyes of men, And therefore I have laid it in his hands, And I will do his will. [_He has put the crown into SEANCHAN’S hands._ SEANCHAN. [_Who has been assisted to rise by his pupils._] O crown! O crown! It is but right the hands that made the crown In the old time should give it where they please. [_He places the crown on the KING’S head._ O silver trumpets! Be you lifted up, And cry to the great race that is to come. Long-throated swans, amid the waves of Time, Sing loudly, for beyond the wall of the world It waits, and it may hear and come to us. [_The PUPILS blow a trumpet blast._ ON BAILE’S STRAND TO WILLIAM FAY BECAUSE OF THE BEAUTIFUL PHANTASY OF HIS PLAYING IN THE CHARACTER OF THE FOOL _PERSONS IN THE PLAY_ A FOOL A BLIND MAN CUCHULAIN, _King of Muirthemne_ CONCHUBAR, _High King of Ulad_ A YOUNG MAN, _Son of Cuchulain_ KINGS AND SINGING WOMEN ON BAILE’S STRAND